Bullets
by kascey
Summary: Derek and Stiles bond, takes place during season 4.
1. Chapter 1

I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS.

PLEASE ENJOY AND LEAVE FEEDBACK. THANKS!

Part one:

The bullets sliced and seared through his flesh as it entered his chest; his body jolting with the force of each shot. He dropped to his knees, the pain reverberating deep into his bones. His eyes glow the bright red of the alpha; but in the moment he felt weaker than a beta. His breaths were deep and painful as he stared down his shooter; his dark hair jumbled and messy, matted with blood from a head wound he couldn't remember. His head dropped back as he let loose a howl that ripped through the night, waking the younger teen and sending shivers down his back.

Stiles woke from a dead sleep, his body tense with a fear he didn't understand. He searched frantically in the dark; his brown eyes darting from object to object, unable to make out shapes at first. The slender teen kicked his covers off hastily, flailing a bit as he feet became entangled in the blankets. Stiles panicked at the fleeting thought of being trapped, he felt as though his chest was tightening. His blood quickened and his breathing became rapid and shallow. He finally kicked free of his blankets and took a deep breath, pulling his knees up and sitting up to hook his arms loosely around them. His cheeks were hot and red, even in the darkness he could feel the heat rolling off of him in waves. Eventually he relaxed a little more and brushed his fingers through his ragged, short hair.

"What time is it?" he whispered to himself. The red numbers of the alarm clock on his night stand read 2:49am, the same time he woken the night before. He closed his eyes, shaking his head of the similarities. He turned, placing his feet on the floor and taking a deep breath before standing, and padding across the carpet to his desk. He took a seat in the chair and opened his computer, temporarily blinded by the bright light of the screen. He covered his eyes for a moment, blinking to adjust. He leaned in closer to see the keyboard and prepared to look for answers to questions he had not yet asked.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Stiles had been up all night doing research. He had fallen asleep on the computer desk again and was oblivious to the noises around him. He did not hear the window open, nor the soft, almost undetectable thump of bare feet hitting his carpet. It wasn't until the intruder spoke, that Stiles even realized he was there.

"Stiles" The voice croaked, raspy and broken. Stiles sat up quickly and looked around, his body moving involuntarily and flailing through his waking confusion. Finally, his eyes focused on the object in object in front of him and squinted to be sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Derek?...Holy Shit! Derek!" Stiles shouted, launching himself from his chair and wrapping his arms around the older man. "We went looking for you in Mexico and it was like you had Amnesia… and Kate…Oh that Bitch!... And…" Stiles opened his eyes as the older wolf stood in the hug, a rock, unmoving, but flinching slightly. Stiles stopped talking and surveyed the flesh of the wolf he could see in the hug. All he saw was red, and tears in Derek's flesh. He pulled back immediately to survey further damage.

"It's fine. You shouldn't have gone to Mexico though, it was a danger to the whole pack." Derek's cracked voice was still as stoic as his features, but his hand was shaking at his side.

Stiles ignored Derek's comment and began to walk a circle around Derek, looking at the cuts, scratches and bullet wounds. He reached up and touched a wound that was already starting to heal, a bullet wound. He measured Derek's reaction to the touch of him at the site of the wound. Derek hardly moved. Stiles ran his finger tips gently from the hole in Derek's shoulder to the next bullet wound just below his shoulder blade, he stood next to Derek, feeling the back wound and surveying the rock hard chest and abs for an exit wound. There was none. Stiles looked up at Derek, confused.

"Where did it go?" Stiles asked gently. He was still and quiet for the first time in Derek's presence as he waited for the answer.

"I don't know. I think it is still in there." Derek looked at Stiles, as the young teen realized the weight of the words. Derek wanted him to pull the bullet out.

"Wait…..ummm, why haven't you just pushed the bullet out? You know like Wolverine?" Stiles asked, his hands now up in the air, moving to the speed of his words. He thought he saw a glimmer of sadness cross Derek's face as the loss of his touch, but he must have been dreaming. "And why didn't you ask you pack to pull it out for you?"

Stiles began to notice that Derek was dripping blood onto his carpet. For the first time he noticed that Derek wasn't wearing a shirt, whereas before he had been focused on the wounds, now he was focused on the lack of clothing. Derek was shoeless, which happened often, and his pants hung low on his waist, his briefs peeking from the top.

Stiles eyes traveled from the wounds on Derek's torso, down to the zipper of his pants, and stopped. He chewed his lip, lifting his fist to his mouth trying to hide the curiosity. Derek looked at the young teen with confusion.

"Stiles…..First aid?" Derek's words penetrated the fog that Stiles was in, Derek's fingers snapping in front of Stiles' face.

"What? Yeah. First Aid, in the bathroom" Stiles grabbed Derek's forearm, leading him to the bathroom attached to his room, a habit of being familiar with the other pack members and friends had now extended to Derek. When he realized what he was doing he let go and retracted his hand quickly, as though burned by something. He retracted his energy back into himself and calmed down.

Stiles opened the door to the bathroom, flipping on the light, and motioning to Derek to sit on the other side of the double sink. He began to pull out all the things he would need to help Derek.

Derek pushed himself backwards, sliding onto the counter of the sink, his body rippling as he moved, the pain shooting through him. He looked around the bathroom as Stiles rummaged. He noticed another door at the end of the room, and some beautiful abstract paintings.

"What's with the door and the art?" Derek asked softly, still observing. Stiles kept looking around under the sink.

"The door goes to the other bedroom. My parents wanted to have more kids….but then my mom got sick and it didn't end up that way." He finished grabbing all the things he needed and tossing them into the sink above him. Stiles sat up and looked at Derek smiling, "And the art is mine.". Stiles grabbed a pair of tweezers and a lighter, sterilizing the tweezers.

Derek shifted his weight on the countertop and turned his left towards Stiles, allowing better access to the bullet hole. Stiles pushed around on the hole for a bit, feeling for the metal close to the surface and found it lodged near Derek's shoulder blade.

"Are you sure you don't just want to take this to Deaton? Because I'm not a licensed surgeon and cant I be fined or arrested for illegally practicing medicine? And why would you want me to do this anyway? I am not exactly graceful or gentle….and" Derek turned swiftly and clapped a hand over Stiles mouth. Stiles quieted instantly, not expecting the proximity to be so close. Derek leaned in even closer and whispered to stiles.

"Shut up and pull out the bullet, I need to know who shot me." Derek said simply. Stiles nodded, and Derek removed his hand, turning back to his previous position. Stiles dumped bactine across Derek's wound and then dug into his flesh with the tweezers. He had the bullet out in seconds and dropped it into Derek's waiting hand. The older wolf got up and rinsed off the bullet, looking at the markings, a skull.

"That's a Dia De Los Muertos skull" Stiles pointed out.

"Yes, and I know exactly who shot me." Derek said. He looked down, noticing Stiles had bactine on his chest. "You spilled". HE said as he walked past Stiles and into the other room.

"I what?" Stiles looked down, noticing that he did not spill bactine on a teeshirt, but rather on his bare chest. "How did I forget to put on a shirt?" He decided to take a shower before going back into his room to sleep. He shed his sleep pants, and turned on the water, feeling it for the right temperature. He stepped in, the water cascading down him, relaxing the tension in his body from sleeping at his desk. He hung his head under the stream of water, brushing his fingers through his wet hair, and trying to relax. All he could focus on was Derek and his muscles. He could only think of the sad look Derek had when he stepped away from him. Stiles decided to try work the tension out even faster, gently gripping his hardening cock and stroking. At first, he was slow about it, working the pleasure through his body, feeling every thing. As he got closer to his climax, his strokes became faster and faster, and he couldn't stop himself from moaning a little, imagining Derek in the shower with him, wanting to lick every inch of the older wolf. His closed his eyes and came, moaning loudly as he did so. The tension was gone and he could finally sleep. Derek had been haunting his dreams for a couple of weeks now and Stiles felt more release in giving into the fantasy voluntarily. He finished washing and reached for the towel outside of the shower, wrapping it around his hips and stepping from the shower. He threw his hands in the hamper and walked back into his room, padding over to his dresser for boxers to sleep in. He pulled them on and dropped his towel, turning to his bed.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he realized that Derek was in his bed, eyes closed, asleep.

"Sourwolf" Stiles whispered. Derek did not move. Stiles shrugged and realized that Derek was actually asleep, he just wished that Derek would have taken a shower before ruining his sheets. Stiles shook his head, the thoughts of Derek hard in front him in the shower came back to the front of his mind. He shook those thoughts away, climbing into bed beside Derek. "Think I will let you steal my comfy bed, fat chance asshole." Stiles grumbled as he climbed in and lay on his side, facing the window. He drifted quickly to sleep and comfort through his exhaustion.

Stiles woke again at 5:45am, unusually warm in his bed, he kicked the covers back in his bed but kicked a solid being beside him. He had forgotten Derek was sleeping his bed, no wonder he was so warm. Wolf heat. After kicking off the covers, he realized how close the heat was to him, he could feel warm arms wrapped around him, holding him close to Derek's body. He was too tired to fight with Derek about boundaries so he left it alone and went back to sleep. He woke again at 7am to his alarm clock and was freezing cold. He reached behind him but felt nothing. He sat up and looked around, there was not sign Derek had ever been there except the blood on the carpet. Stiles heart deflated at the idea of being alone again, but he pushed the feelings away and got up to get ready for school.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

***I do not own Teen Wolf nor do I own the characters***

Stiles had gotten up and dressed for school, and even driven to school. He sat in the parking lot, confused about last night and not remembering how he got to school just now. He scrunched his features, talking to himself with violent hand motions.

"He showed up at my house…..We snuggled? No, sourwolf doesn't snuggle….what was that?...Maybe it didn't really happen….but then where did the blood come from?" Stiles had continued the ranting as he had left his car, walking into the school. He looked like a crazy person, wving his hands around and asking himself questions. He didn't even notice Scott and Kira approaching him in the hall, talking as they stopped in front of him.

"STILES!" Kira shouted at him. He blinked, looking around and realizing that he was standing in school and his friends were looking at him as though he was possessed again. He hooked his thumbs under his back pack straps attached to his body, the weight of his books and questions heavy on his shoulders. He smiled at Kira, wearing a short school girl skirt and a black punk shirt.

"Don't you perpetuate some kind of Asian stereotype by dressing like that?" Stiles asked, hoping that the implication of an insult would distract Kira from asking questions about who the 'he' was that Stiles was talking about. When he realized it had done the trick, he looked at her and simply said, "That is what other people would say if they didn't know you, but I do know you and you look like the fantastic little fox you are." Kira smiled back at him, knowing he was dodging the ranting.

"Thank you Stiles, Scott can you please explain this whole 'list' thing so that we can all understand." Kira looked at Stiles, motioning towards him in the conversation of understanding.

"Why is it so hard to believe? This is Beacon Hills! There are so many creatures here, it is impossible to figure out if anyone is actually human. Why is a supernatural hit list so hard to understand?" Scott explained in hushed tones. " Stiles, back me up here"

Stiles looked at him, "What?"

"Apparently Lydia figured out the cipher to this supernatural hit list that has like…all of our names on it. It sounds like a bad horror movie! I just don't believe it." Kira shook her head and turned on Scott.

"You are a fox, I'm a wolf, Maliea is some strange were-cyote, Jackson was a Kanima, Kate is back from the dead, Allison hunted my kind, and there is killer out there with no mouth, and you think that the hit list is hard to believe?" Scott was yelling at her as quietly as he could, confused about Kira's disbelief in the matter.

"I just don't see how this can be real!" Kira said.

"Maybe that's the point Scott, there is too much supernatural activity in Beacon Hills. Maybe that is why this hit list exists. Someone thinks that there is too much going on, and wants to give power of the town back to the humans." Stiles added quietly. Kira and Scott stopped arguing and looked at him.

"Well, I mean I get that. But like who uses a hit list and sends it Lydia?" Kira asked him. Stiles shrugged.

"Well maybe we should ask her where it came from. We could go find Danny and ask him to trace the IP?" Stiles suggested. Kira kissed him on the cheek.

"Brilliant!" She said.

"Yeah I can go find Danny, Stiles you talk to Lydia, don't you have class with her this period?" Scott asked. Stiles nodded.

"And now, so do I. My mom made me transfer to calculus. Sorry Scott." Kira linked her arm in Stiles' and lead him away from Scott to class.

Stiles had taken the time in class to update Lydia on the plan to have Danny trace the IP address, and had made it through the rest of the day without anyone asking who the mysterious 'he' was that Stiles had been ranting about earlier that day. Stiles drove home, fumbled the key into the lock and entered his house. He slumped up the stairs, backpack on his shoulder and went to his room. He dropped his back pack by his desk and pulled the note off his computer.

_Stiles, _

_Working late. There is pizza in the fridge. Love you. _

_Dad._

Stiles sat down at his desk, stared at the black screen of his sleeping laptop. Now that he had time to think again, he felt the anger, confusion, sadness and longing bubbling in his stomach. He felt the need to destroy things, scream, cry, or anything that would let this feeling out.

"Damnit Derek!" Stiles screamed as he stood up and threw his pencil onto his desk. It wasn't the violent outburst he had really wanted but he felt better for screaming. He ran his fingers through his hair and turned to walk out his room, the extra energy surging through him. He collided with another body on his way out of his room, falling backwards, and hitting the floor.

Stiles looked up and saw the looming figure of Derek Hale standing over him. He dropped back onto the floor, arms spread out as his head smacked the carpet with a thud.

"What did I do now?" Derek asked Stiles, watching the teenager splay out on the floor in utter defeat.

"Everything." Stiles said, draping his arm over his face, covering how ashamed he was to run into Derek.

"Wow, thanks. I am guessing Scott told you that there is a hit list out there right?" Derek asked, taking his shoes off and sitting on the edge of Stiles bed. Stiles lifted his head.

"Maybe. Yes. Why does it matter to you? You probably commissioned it" Stiles said, head thumping the floor again.

"Right because I would put my own name on the hit list…and yours." Derek replied. He knew he had gotten Stiles' attention, he watched the younger teen sit up and hug his knees to his body loosely.

"What? Who would want to kill me? I'm just a human? How is that even fair I mean you guys have super strength and freaky fast healing! If I get hit or cut, it takes me forever to heal!" Stiles was ranting in anger, and Derek just let the boy keep talking even though it annoyed him. He knew that sometimes Stiles needed to wind up before he could calm down and focus.

"I have the list if you want to see it. Maybe we can figure out who is next so we can help them." Derek suggested, pulling the zip drive from his pocket and tossing it to Stiles, who caught it and was up, plugging it into his computer in seconds. He moved so fast he almost missed his desk chair.

Stiles loaded the list and saw familiar names and numbers next to them.

"I'm guessing this is what the killer gets paid per person offed?" Stiles pointed at the numbers next to the names. He hadn't realized Derek was next to him. He could smell Derek. Lumber, vanilla, and a musk he couldn't place.

"Yes, see here's you." Derek pointed out Stiles' name on the list. Stiles looked at his name in comparison to the others.

"What?!" Stiles shouted. Derek looked at him confused at the outrage. Stiles looked from Derek to the computer and back again. "$15 to kill me! What the hell? And you guys are like $250 a pop! And look at this Lydia is more than that and so is Kira! Come on this guy underestimates how valuable I am." Stiles was back to ranting.

Derek's features turned stern and he looked like a statue, "That is what you are angry about?"


End file.
